


For Lack of a Hero

by Tonystarktastic (The_truth_is_I_am_Iron_Man)



Category: Amazing Spider-Man (2012), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: For Lack Of A Hero, M/M, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Trigger warning for Domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_truth_is_I_am_Iron_Man/pseuds/Tonystarktastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter reveals to his dads that he's Spider-man, and they have a hard time getting used to it. Not sure what'll happen later.</p><p>Trigger Warning for domestic abuse in later chapters.</p><p>Also posted on Tumblr, under the tag For lack of a hero.</p><p> </p><p>Also, I am accepting prompts for short drabbles of this on tumblr, just submit them via ask, and I'll post them on there. My blog is RobertDowneyWhoniur.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Decision

There're televisions on in every room when he gets home, a blurring of sounds from different news networks, and Peter feels his heart start pounding. Something happened, some kind of emergency, and he wonders which of his parents had to stay home this time to wait for him, and he fiddles with the zipper on his hoodie, hiding his Spider-man suit beneath it more effectively.  
“Dad? Papa?” He calls cautiously, peeking his head around the edge of the elevator before stepping out,  
“In here, Peter.” His dad's voice calls from the living room, and Peter shuffles in, eyes flickering from screen to screen showing his family, the Avengers...the x-men, all of them, fighting something he's seen before. The herd of massive man-like lizards are doing an awfully good job at knocking the heroes back, and when Peter's gaze slips to his father, he winces in sympathy.  
Tony Rogers-Stark is curled on the couch, his bottom lip between his teeth, and hands twisted together as one screen shows Captain America slamming his shield's edge into the head of one of the lizards. Peter doesn't say anything, he simply leans over the back of the couch and hugs his father, hard,  
“It's alright, dad, go. I'll be fine.” He knows Tony's been waiting, and that makes him feel a little bit guilty, too many times have he and one of his fathers watched these screens, fearing for the safety of their other family member, and recently, it's just been him, waiting here, for them to return. He doesn't dare join their fight out of fear they'll recognize him, but, as Tony gets up, looks him in the eyes, his gaze promising that he'll return, with Steve in tow, Peter feels his chest clench, and he knows that this is the time that he can't stay behind.

He waits long enough to watch the Iron Man suit encase Tony, slipping, Extremis fed, from his skin and coating him in technology, and then for Tony to take off from the landing pad, racing toward downtown. And then Peter is in motion. It takes him forty seconds to pull on his mask and shed his clothes, switching tennis shoes for boots, and then he's flying too, barely grasping the webs as he swings through the city. He'll keep them safe, this time, watch their backs instead of watching from home.

“Cap, to your right!” Tony shouts through the com, watching Steve twist out of the way of one of the lizard men, slamming his shield into it's face. The fight is fierce, and the relief of Iron Man's arrival is wearing off quickly as thick tails swat the heroes aside, and wounds on the creatures heal at super speed. “Shit!” The genius cries as he's thrown backward again, rolling across the ground. He's already bleeding in too many places, and bruised in more, but they can't give up, so he rolls to his feet, bursting into the air, and firing his repulsors left and right.  
“Incoming!” Widow's voice crackles over the com, Tony's brow furrows, he'll have to fix whatever is causing that before the next battle, but that thought only distracts him for a second. He sees one of the lizards running at him, leaping from a building, about to slam into him, and, as he braces himself, repulsors out, to defend himself, something small, red and blue slams into the creature, knocking it off course.  
“Damn it!” Tony growls, landing again as the lizard stands and the other figure doesn't, “Cap! Distract it!” Steve's shield bounces off the creature's head, and it turns for him as Tony slides to a halt next to the hero on the ground, “...Spider-man?” He mutters, lifting the man gently from the ground, he's never worked with the hero before, nor has Steve, but he knows that Widow and Clint, and even Thor have. They've told him and Steve of the hero's strength, but not of his size. “God, he's just a kid...” He mutters to himself, “Hey, kid, wake up.” He shakes the teen's shoulders and the boy groans, lifting his masked head, “Are you alright?” Tony asks softly, the teen simply nods, and stands up, shooting a web from a clever wrist device that Tony would love to play with, and swinging up to rejoin the fray.

It takes them hours to track down and capture all the lizards, and by the time they're done, Tony's suit is indented in several places, and is pressing uncomfortably against his ribs, which he's half sure are broken. The Avengers and other heroes gather to catch their breath before splitting up. In the end, it's Tony, Steve, and Spider-man standing in the square, and the teen is looking up at them where they stand, twisting his hands together nervously,  
“...so...” A familiar voice leaves the teen in front of them, “I'll...I'll uh...see you at home.” And then Spider-man is gone, swinging off through the city, and Steve and Tony are staring at each other, eyes wide, jaws slack.  
“....oh no...” Is Steve's groan of disbelief, “Tony...did he really just...?” Tony shakes his head, his faceplate snapping down over his face,  
“I can't, right this second. Let's just...we have to go home.” Is his response, and he kicks his jets into gear, and shoots toward home, Captain America held securely in his arms.


	2. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small flashback of Peter's history in the Rogers-Stark household.

_“He sleeps with a nightlight, and he likes the crusts cut off of his sandwiches.” Tony swallowed as Peter's father pulled the speaking woman from the house, and the tiny brunette tried to follow, exchanging words softly with his father, he was so small... And then the door was closed, and Peter was staring at the solid barrier. “...hey...Peter...” Steve was the one who stepped forward, crouching in front of the little boy, “I know this is...scary, right?” The boy nodded, “Well, I know how that feels. So, why don't you and me go in the kitchen, and we'll make some hot cocoa?” And Tony had stood there, unsure how to proceed, as Jarvis told Steve where the cocoa was, since Tony had moved it, and the hero and the little boy stirred the packets into hot milk. “Come on, Tony,” Steve interrupted Tony's thoughts, “Come have some hot cocoa.” And Peter had nodded at him, big brown eyes shining. Tony did as told. Tony knew the minute Jarvis announced the Parkers that something had happened, something irreversible, and that those two would never return._

_It took some adjusting to, having a kid in the house. Tony had thought it was hard to get used to entirely sharing his life with Steve, he had another thing coming when it came to Peter. He was fascinated with Jarvis, asking Tony all about how the electronics in the house worked, but he didn't give up hope about his parents for a long time, and, despite his interest, he stuck close to Steve, making him ask Tony questions. The two took turns staying home with Peter when they got calls, and even sometimes Coulson came over to watch him when both Iron Man and Captain America were needed. They never told Peter where they were going, though he must have known, since their identities weren't really secret, but they didn't want him to feel scared when they were gone._

_The day that Peter's parents deaths were reported, Tony was at home with him, the two sitting at opposite ends of the couch, Tony working on a Starkphone, Peter fiddling with the remote._

_“-and Mary Parker were killed in a plane crash early this morning.” Tony's head snapped up, eyes wide, the picture of the crash was huge on Tony's flat screen, and he was on his feet, pieces of his project scattered across the floor,_

_“JARVIS, TV OFF!” His voice came out a strangled shout, and he grabbed the remote from Peter, who was frozen in his seat,_ _“Pete? Peter, look at me, Peter!” Tony was on his knees in front of the boy, gripping his tiny shoulders, “Peter...oh, Peter...” The little boy was staring blankly at him, and then, his eyes flickered, and Tony kept his hold on the boy, as the tears spilled over,_

_“....what did that mean...?” The tiny boy asked, the first time he'd initiated a conversation with Tony, had asked a question himself,_

_“Pete...” Tony whispered, remembering the day Obie had told him his mother was dead, the pain he'd felt in his chest, the loss of her. He may not have cared about his father passing, but his mother...? It had been devastating. “I know this is hard...I know, Peter, how it feels, but...” He didn't get any farther as Peter began to hit him, arms flailing,_

_“No! No! It's not true! They're not dead! NOOO!!” The little boy had slapped at Tony's chest for the better part of twenty minutes, until the blows became weak, and his hand hit Tony's arc reactor, and stayed there. He'd never looked at it, had never asked about the glowing circle of light, and Tony, hoping against hope that the Parkers would return, hadn't bothered telling him about it._

_“...this...” Tony pulled his shirt up, “This is an arc reactor,” He didn't know why he chose that moment to tell him about it, mostly it was that he didn't know what else to say, didn't know how to deal with human emotions well enough to handle this conversation. “I built it,” He murmured, “I almost died building it, to keep some little pieces of metal out of my heart.” Peter's hand reached to touch it, eyes red from crying, watching his fingers cover the glowing circle too big for his hand to block out. “Look, I know you're hurting, Peter, and there's nothing I can do or say that will help, because it's going to hurt for a long time...but you can't let this run your life, Pete, you have to keep living...” Peter looked up at him, then slowly, shaking, he nodded. Tony swept him up in his arms, “Come on, we'll blow something up, it'll help.”_

_That was the day that Peter started to spend time, speak to, Tony. The day that started their relationship as father and son, where Steve's fatherhood had begun the day the Parkers had left Peter in the living room of Avengers tower. That was also the day that Tony signed the papers the Parkers had left, the papers they'd left, just in case, something happened to them, relinquishing Peter into the care of Tony and Steve. They considered themselves married, but the rest of the world didn't quite agree. Steve had signed it the day they'd left, saying they'd just shred it if they came back, and that day, as Tony flipped the pages, reading it thoroughly, and signed it, he realized that this bound him and Steve together just as thoroughly as marriage would in the future. And that he loved that little boy, and would do anything to protect him._

_Peter was brilliant, that much was clear within days of him arriving, and soon, he was helping Tony in the lab, learning how to build things Tony had built at his age, and helping come up with R &D ideas, the years passed, and, as Peter set out to find out about his father's work, Tony let him, helped him, even, as much as he could. Got him a spot as an intern at Oscorp, researched employees, and didn't pry, though he was as curious as Pete was. He supported the boy he'd claimed as his son, and, thinking back, he probably should have asked more. Instead, he'd gotten Steve mad at him for keeping it a secret, and even more mad that he didn't know everything Peter had found out. When Peter started coming home beaten up, Steve took charge, trying to get it out of the boy who had hit him, what had happened, but Peter just shrugged it off. Jarvis told Tony when Peter ate half the contents of the fridge, and Tony thought nothing of it. Now, though?_


	3. Replenishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony helps Peter with his suit.

“Peter,” Steve crosses his arms once they're out of uniform, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, “I think we need to have a talk.” Tony nods, actually agreeing this time, he's standing behind the couch, clad in t shirt and jeans.

“Well...remember when I was interning at Oscorp?” Peter grins nervously, and Steve turns his angry gaze on Tony, even as Peter keeps talking, “I sorta kinda got bitten by an altered spider in the labs, and...it gave me abilities...” He trails off as Steve strides toward Tony, grabbing his arm,

“I told you! I told you it was dangerous! After all the trouble Osborn's put us through, sending our son into his company was dangerous!” Peter's eyes widen as Steve grips Tony tightly, and the genius winces,

“Look! I apologized already! He would have gone anyway, and it would have been more dangerous!” Tony tries to explain, but Steve isn't really listening,

“Damn it, Tony!” He shouts, and Peter is shocked, Steve never curses.

“Papa, stop!” He grabs Steve's arm, “Papa you're hurting dad!” This seems to break through to Steve, and he releases Tony's upper arms, the skin where his hands had been is already bruising, and Peter touches his dad's arm slowly, carefully, but Tony pulls it away.

“I'm fine, Pete. Look, Steve, you're right...and I'm sorry, but I can't turn back time...”

“We'll talk about this later, Tony.” Steve says shortly, and Tony ducks his head, and nods. “Peter.” He turns his attention back to their son, who's brow is furrowed,

“Yes, papa?” He asks, holding his head up, still gripping Tony's hand.

“Bring me your suit.” He doesn't have to clarify, he knows Peter understands. The teen pulls it from his backpack, and Steve hands it to Tony immediately.

“....this is spandex.” Tony mutters incredulously, “Spandex. Seriously. Steve, he gets this from you, I swear!” Steve's eyes narrow, he's not in the mood for Tony's jokes, which Tony doesn't find fair, because their son is out there fighting crime in a spandex suit, with almost no protection, and Steve is angry at _him_?

“Then fix it, Tony.” Steve's voice is harsh, and Tony falls silent, hiding his hurt,

“Come on, Peter. You should have asked me to make your uniform, I made Steve's, and it keeps him safe,” Steve's next look makes it clear that, had Tony made Peter's suit at first, Steve would never have forgiven him. He swallows, and leads Peter downstairs, into the lab.

“These are really awesome, Pete.” Tony praises him, trying to make him feel better, because Steve's show, while aimed at Tony, has made Peter retreat into himself, the normally bantering teen quiet and serious. Tony's examining the webshooters, turning them over in his hands, and working out, in his mind, how to attach them to the material blend he was working out for Peter's new suit. “I'm serious, this is some masterful workmanship, kid.” Peter offers a sad smile, reaching to touch Tony's arm,

“Are you really okay, Dad?” He asks, eying the bruises that have darkened over the past few hours,

“I'm fine, Peter. I've had worse.” Tony offers a rueful smile, and Peter winces at the implications.

“But papa...” Tony puts his hands on Peter's shoulders,

“Pete, Papa will be fine, I promise. Look, he's worried about you, kid, for good reason, if he were as mad as he seems, I wouldn't be making you a new suit, because he'd be shredding the old one.” Peter nods, sighs, and Tony echoes the sentiment. “I know. If that's what he feels, why can't he say it, hmm?” Pete shakes his head, snorting,

“Nah, dad, that's not what I was thinking at all.” Tony groans,

“You people, and your emotions!” He throws his hands up, exasperated, “So, your suit...” He turns back to his screens, tapping things out on the clear surfaces, shot through with light blue, and within seconds he has a holographic image revolving between them. “Alright, so, we can infuse it with adamantium, like Logan's claws...but that'll increase the weight...” Peter nods, going back to his careful list of changes the spider venom had wrought on him, listening carefully to his father's rambling, “Or, we could do a reinforced lycra blend, like Steve's, but...I don't know....” Peter laughs softly, watches Tony tap his chin, then reach out and rotate the hologram, “...or a reinforced adamantium lycra...but how to make it light weight...” And Tony starts to work.

It takes him six hours to make the perfect Spider-man suit for Peter, testing it with everything he can think of to make sure his son will be safe, it's not too heavy, but he's already taken Peter's increased strength into account, and so that helps a bit, and he doesn't need to worry as much. His heart squeezes in a vague mixture of pride and terror when Peter pulls the mask over his face, and he realizes his kid is serious about this, about fighting for the good of the people, the same as Tony and Steve. It makes sense, he guesses, since they've spent nearly Peter's whole time with them protecting the country, the world, even. Tony walks around Peter in a circle, calculating, carefully, checking every seam, luckily, he had all the materials he'd needed right there in the lab, so the uniform was done already.

“That should do it...” Tony still sounds worried, a little unsure, “...take this to your papa, and let him look you over.” Peter nods, and runs off up the stairs. Tony slumps in his chair at his desk, pulling up his screens.

When Peter comes back, Tony has a long list typed out, a list of all the injuries Spider-man has ever received, and it's hovering in front of him. Peter freezes, his smile fading,

“...um...” Tony looks up at him, waiting for him to continue, “I...dad...” Tony stands up,

“Show me.” He orders, and Peter simply nods, tugging part of the uniform off,

“I heal really fast now, so...they're not so bad...” And now Tony knows why Peter hasn't so much as taken his sweatshirt off around them lately. Peter's chest is mottled with bruises, his arms, and a bit of his throat, too. Tony bites his lip, brow furrowing,

“How've you been treating these?” He asks, touching a barely healing gash, one of four, that are slashed across Pete's chest through the bruising,

“I cleaned them...and Gwen put some salve on them...” Peter falls silent, and Tony smirks,

“Gwen, eh? Gwen Stacy?” His eyebrow quirks, and Peter nods,

“Yeah...” He mumbles, looking embarrassed, he punches his dad lightheartedly, and Tony jerks back, hissing in pain, “Dad?”

“I'm fine, kid, totally fine, just some bruises.” Tony waves him off, “It's past dinner time, should we order out? We can celebrate...well, I mean, we can, but we'll have to keep it kind of quiet, I don't think your papa's very happy with us.” Tony shrugs, and Peter sighs,

“Right...well...” He smiles softly, “Can we get Chinese food?” His question is excited, and Tony smiles at him,

“Sure, you go ahead upstairs, and I'll order your favorite and meet you up there.” As soon as Peter leaves Tony tugs his shirt off, staring down at the mottled skin where his armor had impacted him, it hurts, quite a bit, but he shakes his head, rubs some salve into them, and wraps them as best he can before having Jarvis call for food. By the time he gets upstairs the food is there, and his family is waiting for him, he knows the look on Steve's face, that quiet anger that the man is facing him with, and it should upset him, but all it means is that it'll take Steve awhile to notice that Tony is injured.


	4. Reactionary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve loses it.

Dinner is a quiet affair, though Peter tries to talk to them, and Tony insists it's a celebration, Steve is silent as a stone, sitting in his chair and swallowing his food in large bites, as if he's eager to be done. It's not until half way through the meal that he snaps,   
“IT'S NOT A GOOD THING, TONY!” He snarls, and Tony jerks back in his seat, surprised. Steve almost never yells, their arguments are low and hurried, and cleared up quickly, but this one is hanging around, making Tony antsy and nervous. Peter looks shocked, his fork falls to the table with a clatter that Steve doesn't notice, but Tony's eyes track it for a second, a flicker of his gaze, and Steve pushes his chair back. He doesn't say anything else while Peter's in the room, and Tony is still confused as to how Peter fighting crime has translated into Tony having done something wrong. He doesn't understand why Steve is so angry at him, why Steve glares at him when he talks about the suit he made for Peter when Steve asked him to make it. Tony just doesn't understand.  
It took him so long to get used to having people with him all the time, first the Avengers, and then Steve moving in, and then Peter, always with them, and some things never translated. He still has a lot of trouble with human emotions, with reactions, because humans are complicated, their feelings are more than math and equations.   
He gives Peter a quick hug, cleans up from dinner, trying to delay the inevitable, he guesses, but there's only so much cleanup to do after Chinese takeout. When he looks up Peter's gone, having already vanished into his room, so he steels himself and heads for his bedroom. He's almost surprised that Steve's in there, sometimes he sleeps in one of the guest rooms when he's upset, but this time is different, it seems. Steve's eyes are clouded, stormy, even, with emotion. And Tony knows as soon as he closes the door behind himself that this is important, that Steve is worried, and it's manifesting itself as anger this time, and Tony decides right then and there that he'll be that outlet for Steve, that no matter what, he'll be here, take what's dished out.   
Steve looks him up and down, and Tony can see the conflict in his eyes, he remembers the one time that he and Steve physically fought, and braces himself, because Steve has that same caged-tiger look about him now, all coiled muscle, and uncontrollable emotions. Steve takes a step toward him, words leaving his lips, and Tony forces himself not to back up.   
“This is your fault, Tony! All of this! He never would have done this if it weren't for you sending him to Oscorp! And now, because you helped him, he's half spider or something?!” Steve takes another three steps toward him, and his stride is long, he's in front of Tony in seconds, looking down at him, and Tony gives one slow nod,   
“Yes, Steve, it's my fault.” He lets his body relax slowly, imagines how Steve must feel, all that adrenaline pumping through his veins, all that worry, that fear, that hurt, and Tony lets Steve hit him.   
The first connecting hit is strong, powerful, and Tony stumbles a little as he tries to keep his balance, his cheek will be purple tomorrow, but he knows how to cover these things. No, Steve's not abusive, this has only happened once before, when Steve was so overwhelmed by everything that he lashed out, Tony didn't understand it then, but he does now. The second hit is lower, hitting his already wounded ribs, and that's all that happens. Because a second later, Tony's lip is bleeding from the first hit, and Steve is kissing him, and apologizing, and Tony just wraps his arms around his husband's waist, and whispers.   
“I know.” In his ear.

They stand that way for far too long, Steve's face buried in Tony's shoulder, Tony's hands rubbing up and down his back, trying to help him calm down. And, after all is said and done, the conflict only lasted about three minutes, total. Steve pulls away a minute after it starts to hurt Tony to hold him, and Tony vanishes into the bathroom immediately, leaning against the door with a barely audible groan of pain. The punch to the ribs hurt more than it should have, and he worries for a moment that they're broken, but when he pulls up his shirt he decides they're only fractured, if anything, and he rearranges the bandages better, and leans over the sink to staunch the bleeding in his lip. It's not a bad split, but it'll be a bitch to cover. Steve was so wound up that Tony wonders if he'll remember hitting him at all. Probably not. And it's better that way, in Tony's mind, because that wasn't really Steve, it was emotions, the messy things they were.   
He settles his hands on the counter, staring at himself in the mirror, he still hates himself, after all these years of Steve making him feel worthwhile, he still sees himself in the mirror and wonders “What are you looking at?” There's never an answer.   
He patches himself up as best he can, and steps into the bedroom again, Steve is asleep in the bed, breathing deeply, curled up under the blankets like a small child, and Tony can't bear the thought of disturbing him by climbing into the bed, so he slips from the room and down to his lab.   
Tony spends the next ten hours working on new weapons and tech for the Avengers, when the call comes in that more of the lizards are attacking New York, he downs a whole pot of coffee, suits up, and flies to great the monsters. Steve is there when he arrives, at nine o'clock am, shield spinning through the air, taking down the creatures left and right, and Tony throws himself into the battle, hoping he can disguise the bruises from Steve by claiming they came from this battle. Spider-man is nowhere to be seen, which Tony supposes is good, the kid needs his rest after all. 

The battle isn't actually that bad, except that Tony gets hit with Cap's shield, right in the ribs, and it stings like a bitch after. But by the time they all get back to the tower, most of the Avengers in tow, they're laughing and everyone's bleeding from somewhere, even if it's a small cut, and they pile around the table to eat breakfast. It's become a habit, after Tony made them all go out to Shawarma.


	5. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony realizes what Peter being Spider-man means to him.

Tony is having a bad week. 

He smashes through the wall back first, sprawling painfully across the floor, and it takes him at least a minute to get his muscles to respond to his orders. He's only partially wearing the Iron Man, because half of it has been ripped off of him by this giant...thing, and it takes him another minute to get himself to roll over. Tony almost whimpers as he pulls his knee under his body, and levers himself up, the other Avengers are missing, all busy in different cities, too far away to help him, and he's not sure if he can handle this alone, isn't that a terrifying thought? He chokes on blood, unsure whether he bit his lip or something deeper is broken, he's hoping it's just his lip.   
His arms shake as he lifts himself into a crouch, and then slowly stands up, lurching to the side when his legs give out, he catches himself on a broken wall, taking deep, shuddering breaths. His ribs are on fire, his right arm feels strangely numb, and the rest of the armor is all sharp edges and suffocating tightness. The giant rat creature shoulders its way into the room, and Tony swallows, taking tentative steps backward, wondering why these creatures are attacking New York all the time. It's nearly upon him when something small, red and blue, slams into its head, and Tony stares as Spider-man vaults to the ground beside him,   
“You alright?” Peter's voice leaves the mask, and Tony nods, exhausted,   
“I've got this, get out of here.” He gasps out, Peter shoots off a series of webs, roping the creature into the corner so he can keep talking to his father,   
“Yeah right, dad, it sure looks like you've got this handled.”   
“Don't!” Tony snaps, “It's not safe here, I can deal with this!” He pushes Peter away from the creature, its beady red eyes watch Tony's every move as he rips at the armor, trying to tug it into a better shape so he can get this done with. Peter doesn't budge.   
“I...dad...” Peter's voice is concerned, of course it is, there's blood dripping down Tony's arms, his armor is stained with it, but Tony isn't listening, he raises his left arm, the repulsor glowing, and reverts all the power to it. A moment later the blast takes the rat's head off, and Tony shoots Peter a look,   
“Get home, it's late, and you have school tomorrow.” He grunts, Peter grimaces, but does as told. Tony ends up slumped against the wall for a lot longer than he's comfortable with.   
When he gets home, Steve is there, waiting, with a large box of first aid supplies beside him on the couch. He doesn't speak, just gently sits Tony down, stripping his ruined shirt off of him, and begins to clean and bandage his wounds.   
Peter watches from the hallway where they can't see him, watches his Papa's careful hands smooth the crisp white bandages over the burns and cuts, the scrapes. His eyes flicker as Steve re-wraps Tony's damaged ribs, and there's care in every motion, worry, and an indescribable sadness. The moment is like a ritual, something Peter can remember seeing often, from both sides. He's seen Tony heal Steve's emotions, seen Steve patch up Tony's ego, and the physicality is another aspect he's seen a lot of. It reminds Peter of Gwen, how she's so careful while she cleans his wounds, and his heart aches for his parents, bonding in the silence.   
Tony's eyes are closed when Peter starts paying attention again, and Steve's strong hands are slowly rubbing his shoulders. Neither has said a word in the last half hour, but so much has been said... In the end, as Steve packs up the first aid box, Tony tries to stand and fails, the box is dropped, and Tony is in Steve's arms in seconds,   
“Shh,” It's the only sound Steve makes before he kisses Tony's forehead, and carries him to bed. 

Steve's hands are gentle, and soft, and it helps Tony to relax, to absorb that calmness, something he's been craving since Peter gave them his secret to hold. His husband's eyes are clear, and bright, worried, but calm, and he lays the smaller man on the bed carefully, wary of his injuries, which are actually really bad this time. Then he stretches out on the mattress beside his lover, and Tony turns into his embrace, ignoring the pain it instills. Hands soothe him, sliding up and down his back, and Tony closes his eyes, a tear slipping free,   
“...I'm scared.” He admits quietly, swallowing, and he feels Steve's intake of breath under his head, the soft heart beat speeding slightly, “...That thing was really strong, Steve...and I thought I was going to lose, and that was alright,” Steve hisses something that rumbles in his chest beneath Tony's ear, but Tony continues as if he hasn't been interrupted, “And then Peter showed up...and that was terrifying.” Steve sighs under him, shifts him slightly, and lifts his chin to kiss him slowly, the angle is awkward, but Tony doesn't care, and Steve doesn't seem to either.   
“This is hard, but it's something we have to get used to, Tony. The best we can do is...let shield recruit him, make sure he's always with us, make sure he's got some lines he can't cross, that he's safe...” Steve closes his eyes as he speaks, and Tony watches the shadows his lashes create on his cheeks, “If he's an Avenger, he'll be with us on missions, and...we can protect him.”   
“We can't protect him forever.” Tony whispers.


	6. Resilient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter works well with the team. Also, Tony meets Gwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a short one, but eh. I have a request for you all, I need some suggestions, things you would love to have happen, and the like. I don't know much about Deadpool or any of that, but if someone wanted to cowrite with me, and play Steve and Wade, I'd be willing to add Spideypool to this...but I need to know soon, so that I don't end up writing really back Gwen/Peter. Send me an ask on tumblr.

Tony's running at full speed within a month. He's been injured four times protecting his son, but he doesn't regret a moment of it, because he's seen Spider-man blossom into a marvelous hero. He insists that it's Steve's doing, that without Steve, Peter wouldn't have turned out right, but Steve doesn't agree, because Steve sees, deep down in Tony, the same hero that he's starting to see in his son. Within the first month of Spider-man's involvement in the Avengers, they're all working mostly cohesively, though Hawkeye and Peter argue and banter as much as Hawkeye and Tony used to, and it clogs up the comms half the time until Steve has to order them silent, it works. Peter fits in their ranks, maybe because that he's Steve and Tony's son, but mostly because he's really and amazing person. 

Tony fends off heart attacks when Peter is injured in battle, when he's repairing Peter's torn suit, when he's resurrecting Peter's failing tech that's been smashed... but over all, he thinks he can handle it. Until Peter brings Gwen over, and he finds out she knew he was Spider-man before his parents did.  
“Ms. Stacy.” Steve greets her, ever polite, when she steps through the elevator doors on the top floor of the tower, and Peter smiles at him, glad he's being polite. Steve elbows Tony in the side, but the man just grumbles and narrows his eyes suspiciously. Peter raises an eyebrow,  
“...Kid.” He finally grunts, much to Steve's amusement and Pete's embarrassment, but Gwen only smiles, and offers her hand.   
“Hello, Mr. and Mr. Rogers-Stark,” She beams at Tony after Steve shakes her hand, and catches hold of Tony's hand without his knowing, “Here, I brought you this!” She pressed a single rose into his hand, red, with a goldish tinge to the tips of the petals. A shiver goes down Tony's spine, and Steve takes the flower from him,   
“Sorry, Ms. Stacy, he doesn't like to be handed things.” Steve's tone is light, and he puts the rose in water. It's several minutes after Gwen and Peter vanish into Pete's room, (Supervised by Jarvis, of course), that Tony realizes that she brought him a flower, like one would their boyfriend or girlfriend's mother.   
“Steve....” He groans, “Steve! She brought me a flower! She just-! She...she implied that I'm the woman!” He gripped his hair in his hands, turning in a frustrated circle, “Oh god, I'm getting too old for this, I want that rose gone, Steve, gone, hear me? I want it shredded!” Steve wraps his arms around Tony from behind, calming him,  
“She wasn't implying anything. The rose is the colors of your suit.” He murmurs in Tony's ear, making the man lean back against him,   
“....suit...right...” He mutters, “...I still don't like her.”


	7. Confliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury pays the Rogers-Stark household a visit.

“Stark!” Fury snaps at Tony, invading his workshop,   
“That's Rogers-Stark.” Tony replies a little playfully, Fury doesn't look amused, “Fine, what is it?” Fury crosses his arms,   
“Spider-man.” Is all he says. Tony freezes, turning off his soldering iron, cleaning it carefully and setting it in its holder,   
“What about him?” He asks, eyes narrowing,   
“He's working with the Avengers, Stark, I need him to be official.” Tony sighs,   
“Sorry, I don't know who he is.” Tony spreads his hands wide, shrugging,   
“Well, I do.” Fury interrupts,   
“Oh?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms over his chest, his reactor shining above them,   
“Yes, Stark, I do. And, as I know for a fact that you, as well, know his identity.” They glare at each other for a moment more,   
“What of it?” Tony turns away, shoulders tense,   
“Look, Stark...” Tony shoots him a glare, “Okay, Rogers-Stark, you want to protect your kid? Sign him up officially.” Tony grimaces, straightening up, he's still shorter than most of the people on the team, and Peter was getting taller all the time.   
“We'll think about it.” Was all he could give in return, “That's it, we'll think about it. Now leave.” Fury knows when to fight his battles, and this one needs to wait until later. He leaves, and Tony stands stock still by the metal he was working on, his eyes down. This is something he's not sure if he can handle, having his son on the roster might be too much, and what if that information got into the wrong hands at Shield? He sighs, and dumps the metal on the floor, giving up, before he strode up to the living room on the top floor, dropping his gloves on the floor.   
“Pete?” He calls, leaning into the kitchen, which is empty. “Peter?” He ambles over to his son's door, and knocks quietly, “Peter? I need to talk to you. You, too, Steve.” He says as his husband steps up behind him, “It's important.” Steve follows him into the living room, and Peter emerges a few minutes later, looking curious,  
“What's up, dad?” He asks, sitting on the couch beside Steve,   
“Nick Fury came to see me today.” Tony murmurs, and Steve tenses.   
“Three guesses why.” Peter quips from his end of the couch,   
“He wants Peter to enlist formally. I...I don't know if it's such a good idea.” Tony bites his lip, and Steve grimaces,   
“....Of course he does.” Tony feels confusion slide through him at the spark of anger in Steve's eyes, concern that maybe his husband is having a problem, because this isn't like Steve.   
“Well...why can't I?” Peter pipes in, eyes big, innocent,   
“Because, Bambi, it's less safe being part of Shield than being freelance.” Clint says as he slips through their living room on his way to the elevator, Tony rolls his eyes, but Steve is still staring broodingly at the floor.   
“It's...it's just not a good idea,” Tony says, Steve's teeth grind audibly, “We don't want you as a part of Shield.”   
“Don't answer for me.” Steve's voice is low, and Tony feels that familiar little arc of fear in his chest, but he pushes it down.   
“Look, Pete, let me and your Papa go talk it out, and we'll...we'll see, alright?” It's Tony that initiates the separation into the other room, knowing that he can head this off now, and help Steve to think straight.


	8. Help you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony needs help, and so does Steve.

It isn't as bad this time, Tony thinks as Steve mashes his mouth against his, and bites at his lips, his hands are vice grips on Tony's biceps, but Tony doesn't say anything, even though it hurts. “Nnn...” He groans as Steve bites harder, and blood drips down his chin. He whimpers, head falling back, as Steve moves to his throat, sinking his teeth into Tony's Adam's apple. Tears prick at Tony's eyes, and he shudders,   
“...Steve...Steve....stop...!” He can't take it anymore, it hurts too badly, “Steve! Steve stop!” Steve shoves him against the wall, and bites down, and Tony's pushing at him, crying out, “Steve, STOP!” The door flies open, and Peter's standing there, staring at them, his eyes widen, and Steve freezes, while Tony's hands shift to his throat, and he's shaking, but Steve's still pinning him. He's bloody, he can feel it.   
“Papa...!” Peter nearly screams, grabbing Steve's shoulders and dragging him off his husband, “Dad, daddy?” He grips Tony's arms, and Tony winces, and he pulls him out of the room, “Daddy, are you alright?” His hands are lifting Tony's chin, inspecting the bloody wounds, “Daddy, answer me!” Tony stares at him,   
“...I'm fine...” He whispers, but Peter looks unconvinced as he locks them in one of the bathrooms, and pulls out his private cache of first aid stuff, “I'm alright, it...he didn't mean to.”   
“And the bruises the night that I told you guys I was Spider-man?” Peter asks, gaze hard, “What about them? Did he 'not mean to' on those too?” Tony's brow furrows,   
“No, he didn't...he doesn't do it on purpose...” He insists, but Peter is staring at him with a look so sad in his eyes that Tony stops to think about it, and his head falls into his hands, “...Peter...” His voice is near silent, and Peter lifts Tony's head, running an alcohol swab over his bite marks.   
“Shh, dad...” Peter murmurs, cleaning his father's split and bitten lip, “We'll...we'll....I'm calling the rest of the team...we're going to talk this out, all of us, together.” It's the only thing he can think of, to help his parents, and god, he hopes this hasn't been happening the whole time, hopes that all the wounds he remembers his father having over the years really were from fighting villains and not from the man Peter looks up to and respects.   
Tony swallows, shivering, adrenaline wearing off, a knock comes at the door, and the Billionaire tenses up immediately when he hears Steve's voice,   
“Tony...? Pete...? I....are you guys in there?” He sounds so heartbroken, so sad, that Tony has unlocked the door before Peter can stop him, “Tony, I'm so sorry, I didn't...I wasn't thinking...” Tony looks up at the man he loves, his throat and lips stinging, and still he wants to curl up in Steve's arms, kiss him, hold him... Peter steps between them,   
“Papa, I think it's best if you stay in the bedroom for awhile.” He says, and Tony can't remember when Peter grew up, became so strong. Steve looks devastated, but he does as Peter tells him, and Tony makes to follow him, but his son grabs his arm and holds tight, “No, dad...” Is all he says, but Tony listens, finding himself carefully bandaged and settled in the living room with a cup of tea twenty minutes later while Peter watches Steve's door and calls all of their team mates, one by one.


	9. Chosen paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers have a meeting about Steve's problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to unpopular belief, I have a point to this story. 
> 
> Having read the comics and watched the movies, (The comics from a very young age, the movies as they came out) I have a pretty good understanding of the characters. Yes, in this story they are a bit OOC, simply because this story has a point. 
> 
> If you are being physically abused in a relationship, no matter how much they say they love you, you need to leave. I know it's easier said than done, it's actually extremely hard. Because there are all these excuses, "They didn't mean it," "They were just upset," Etc. In this story, there is another solution, help from their family, and understanding. 
> 
> Steve seems OOC, I know, but having had all these problems, he is guaranteed to have PTSD. I have done a lot of research on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and some men become violent, then later regret it, some fall into depression, some let people hurt them, believing that they deserve it because of things in their pasts.  
> So, to all reading this who have doubts, (so far only one has voiced them), I'm writing this on the basis that both Steve and Tony have PTSD, from multiple things. That is all.  
> -Jack.

Tony avoids all of their gazes as they arrive, in twos and threes, and they gather around him, sitting on the couches and chairs, Banner on the floor. Even Logan is there, though he's only kind of a team mate. When Peter lets Steve out, sitting him in a chair across the room from Tony, Tony's heart lurches, and he tries to stand, moving toward the man, but Peter grabs his arm, looks at him with eyes that seem unable to believe what he's seeing.  
“I called you all here,” Peter says after he gets Tony to sit back down, the man leans back, trying to school his expression, but there's panic in his eyes. “Because I didn't know how to deal with this...situation that we're having.” Steve looks a little bit desperate at his son's words, self loathing in his gaze.  
“Situation?” Natasha asks from the corner, where she's leaning against the wall, “What kind of situation?” She's wary, probably thinking there's a threat somewhere. The others are watching Peter curiously, their eyes flickering to Tony and Steve occasionally, because the two men always sit together.  
“I found out today...” Peter swallows, nervous, “That my father....” He looked at Steve, “Has been...hurting my dad.” The Avengers look shocked, and Steve drops his head into his hands.  
“Hurting...?” Thor asks, he looks confused,  
“...physically...abusing.” Peter forces the words out, and Tony twitches,  
“That's not true!” He protests immediately, though the other Avengers have all swung to stare at Steve, who hasn't denied a thing, “It's not!” Tony shrieks, losing his control a lot faster than he wants to, “He...he's not abusing me, he loves me!” Steve shivers at his words, “You guys are being stupid, there's no need for this! I'm fine, and Steve's fine, we're completely fine! He just got carried away!” Peter is silent, so is everyone else. It's as if they don't hear him, but he knows they do, he knows because their eyes have shifted to him, and there is pity there, in their depths.  
Steve hasn't moved.  
“Today...I walked into their room...because my dad was screaming 'Stop'.” Peter whispers, Tony shudders, wraps his arms around himself, “When I...when I got in there...Pops was...he...” Peter gestures at Tony, and Natasha approaches him slowly, as she would a wounded animal, a frightened animal. Her hands are gentle as she touches the bandages on his throat, slowly pulls them down, and looks at his throat.  
“...oh Tony...” She whispers, true emotion entering her voice for the first time since the conversation began, he pulls away,  
“I'm fine, I told you I'm fine, I swear, I'm fine, he was kissing me, he just forgot himself!” Tony snaps, Natasha shakes her head slowly,  
“Shush, Tony.” She orders, pulling him back to sit on the couch. “Peter, what can we do?”  
“...I...I didn't know what to do, so...so I...” Peter gives a small shiver, “I called you all, because...I...please, I don't know what to do.” Tony's breathing picks up, guilt shooting through him, guilt at making his son feel this way,  
“....Steve?” Clint looks at the Captain, “Explain.” It's not a request. Steve sits up, there are tears on his face,  
“...I failed you, Tony.” He whispers, “...I broke my vows...”  
 _I swear to always protect you, to take care of you, to bandage your wounds, to love you, to kiss you, to tell you what you mean to me, to keep you safe._ Steve's wedding vows, echo in Tony's head,  
“Rogers,” Clint says, a little louder this time,  
“I hurt Tony.” Steve whispers, tears streaming down his face, “I...I bit him, too hard, I...I made him bleed...and...the night Peter told us...he was Spider-man, I...I punched him, twice. Six months ago, I...I broke two of Tony's ribs.”  
 _I swear to laugh when you tell jokes, to ask you to explain things, to annoy you to no end,_  
Tony's hyperventilating, but everyone's focused on Steve, who continues to speak,  
“Tony never said a word...he...he held me...he told me I was right...” Steve chokes on those words, so different from the words of his vows, which echo in Tony's head,  
 _I swear to hold you every night that I can, to cook you meals, to pay attention when you talk to me, and to make sure you always have coffee._  
Steve looks at him, and his eyes are full of horror, self disgust, “Tony...I...I hurt him so badly...but the next day it was...it was always like it hadn't happened....”  
“There, see? It didn't happen, it's fine!” Tony is half smiling, but Natasha is shaking her head,  
 _I swear to you that I will always love you, so, Tony, I take you as my Husband, to care for when you're sick, to keep close at every possible moment, to show weakness to, I marry you._  
“Tony, I broke my vows.” Steve repeats, and his voice is clogged with tears, and Tony doesn't understand what's happening,  
“No, no you didn't.” Tony stands, he's halfway to Steve when Thor stops him, holding him gently, eyes concerned,  
“Man of Iron,” He begins, but Tony is already trying to dodge under his arm, Thor doesn't allow it as Bruce stands, gripping Steve's arm gently. It's a testament to how much control Bruce has gained that he hasn't hulked out, “Do not be distressed, for we will find a way to fix these wrongs.” It's not until Bruce and Clint start leading Steve toward the elevator that Tony understands what's happening.


	10. Excuses excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has decided to move in with Bruce until he can work out his PTSD problems. Tony protests.

“NO!” He cries, fighting against Thor's hold, “NO! STEVE! DON'T TAKE HIM FROM ME!” Peter places a hand on Tony's chest, eyes worried,  
“Dad...it's alright...” He murmurs, but Tony struggles harder,   
 “NO! STEVE! YOU CAN'T GO!” Steve turns around, he makes it to Tony in three strides, brushing off the other men. He stops directly in front of his husband, eyes full of sorrow,   
 “Tony, shh.” He whispers, not touching him, “It's alright,” He repeats Peter's words, “I broke my vows to you, I swore to protect you, to love you, to treat you right...” Tony is sobbing, still struggling, trying to reach him, tears sliding down his cheeks,   
 “And you have, you have, Steve, you keep me safe, you treat me how I need to be treated, please, you swore you'd never leave me!” He scratches at Thor's arm, shaking, “You swore!”   
 “I swore I'd never hurt you, Tony.” Steve moves slowly, and the other Avengers still tense, but he touches Tony's cheek gently, strokes it with the pads of his fingers, “So...I'm going to go stay with Bruce for awhile, I'll still be in the tower...I'm going to work on this, I'll work this out, I'll...I'll work on me...and...then when I'm sure I can uphold my vows, I'll come home.” Peter swallows, steps closer, and Steve backs away slowly, turning to his son, “Peter...” He whispers, as Tony slumps in Thor's arms, looking completely devastated, as if he's a puppet with cut strings. “Help him...please...? Help him to see...to see that he's worth more than this...” Peter's gaze is hard as he nods,   
 “I will.” He responds, and then Steve rejoins Bruce and Clint, allows them to guide him into the elevator, and Tony's knees give out, Peter's at his side in a second, and Steve's staring over his shoulder, obviously worried, and then Tony whispers,   
 “Please....please don't leave...” And the elevator doors close, cutting him off from the man he loves. Natasha kneels beside him, stroking his back as he lets out a wail of despair,   
 “Shh, Tony, shh, this is for the best.” She says, Tony shudders,   
 “No, no it's not! Taking him away from me is NOT FOR THE BEST!” He screams, Natasha rocks back on her heels, eyes wide, “Taking Steve from me is for the worst! I need him, and he needs me!”   
 “Tony, you don't need this, you don't deserve to be hurt like that...” It's Peter that speaks this time,   
 “But I do!” Tony shrieks, ripping free of Thor's unsuspecting grasp, he darted for the elevator,   
 “Jarvis, lock the elevator.” Peter says, and the doors whir as they lock shut.   
 “JARVIS OPEN THE ELEVATOR!” Tony snarls, hammering at the doors,   
_“I'm sorry, Sir, but as I am programmed to do things according to how they will affect your well-being, I cannot.”_ Jarvis's voice echoes through the room, and Natasha moves swiftly to Tony's side, grabbing his wrists, because he's hitting the elevator so hard that his knuckles have split open,   
 “Stark...” She murmurs, he stares at her, never having heard the emotions she's portraying now in her, “No one deserves that...who made you think you deserved to be hit?” Tony's whole body tenses, his chest heaving,   
“...what...?” He whispers, eyes glassy,  
“Who made you think you deserved to be hurt, Tony?”


	11. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles Xavier reads Tony's mind on Peter's request.

“ _Tony!” Howard's voice echoes through the mansion, and I freeze, dropping the screwdriver I'm working on my robot with, Howard bursts into the room, the_ lab _, Howard's lab. I choke, I'm screwed, and I know it. I'm not supposed to come in the lab, Howard doesn't like being reminded that I'm smarter than him._

_It's too late to hide now, I know that, too, so I don't try. I'm a genius, remember? Even at six years old, I know when running is futile. Howard is faster than me, and despite being drunk, Howard's pretty agile when it comes to chasing me._

_There must have been an article, or Howard was fighting with mom, something set him off, and now I have to take the results. It's alright, even when he picks me up by my throat, even when he hits me, when I feel my eye swelling, and my cheek starts to sting, it's still alright, because dad's paying attention to me, he's spending time with me. That's bad, isn't it? I don't care, he talks to me now, when he's angry like this, and even though he's yelling at me, he's still talking to me, it's still aimed at me. This is the only time I see him, when I help him feel better._

Tony jerks, the Iron Man suit snaps into place around him, as his fear activates it, and Charles Xavier leans back,

“It's alright, Anthony,” Charles says quietly, “It's alright.” The Iron Man stumbles upright, repulsors glowing,

“NO IT IS _NOT ALRIGHT_!” Tony's voice is distorted by the suit, and then Peter's there, at his side, touching the shoulder of his armor,

“Dad...dada...” Tony turns to look at him, Peter hasn't called him that since he was about eight, the repulsors power down, and he crumples to the ground even as the armor breaks apart.

“...where's Steve....?” He whispers, “Why is Professor X here...?” Natasha is the one that answers,

“Steve is still with Banner. And as for Professor Xavier, you wouldn't answer, Tony, and we can't work on this until we know what the problem is.” Tony's eyes narrow, and his teeth grind together,

“Get out.” He growls, “GET OUT OF MY TOWER!” He's headed for the elevator again, no mean feat because it's now several halls and rooms away, Peter races after him, catching him just before he reaches it, and Tony gives a cry of rage. “THIS IS RIDICULOUS!” He screams, “Look, yes, he did that, I admit that, alright? But he...it wasn't him!” Peter stares into Tony's eyes,

“Dad, you're not making sense,” He says,

“No, it's all of you who aren't making sense! Steve didn't do it on purpose! He has PTSD...and...sometimes it...it's like when it's cold out, like the day he fell in the snow, and he flipped out, Pete.” Peter's eyes are sad at the reminder,

“Dad...” He whispers, kneeling in front of Tony, “We'll work on this, alright? We'll...we'll make it right...and then papa can come home, but first you have to...you have to...” Peter can't find the words, he struggles, chewing his lip, “If Papa's going to work on getting better, you have to, too.” Tony's gaze hardens at the words, the challenge there, in Peter's words,

“...You don't understand, Peter....Steve's perfect for me, I waited for him...for so long....” Tony shivers, stands up, “I would give up everything, Pete... _everything_ for Steve.” His voice is strong, his heart feels like it's breaking. “Please, I'll work on it...just...I have to work _with_ him...I can't do it without him.” And that is so hard to say, because ten years ago, hell, five years ago he never would have admitted to needing anyone that much. “Bring him back, Peter, I'll...I'll do anything it takes to make sure he doesn't have a problem...” Peter shakes his head,

“Dad, no...” Is all he replies.  


	12. Clarification and understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally realizes why he's letting this happen.

Charles is still there.

He looks concerned as he rolls into the living room, where Tony is now sitting with his head in his hands, on the couch. Peter, unsure what to do, left awhile before, and now Tony just feels lost.

“...Stark,” Charles greets him, Tony doesn't answer at first, he feels a spark of anger in his chest, but it's dull in comparison to the pain, the depression choking him.

“...you were in my head.” He accuses, eyes flashing,

“Yes.” Is Charles's reply, he sits silent, waiting for Tony to continue,

“...why?” Is Tony's question, Charles actually looks a little surprised,

“Because Agent Romanov asked me, as did your son.” He offers, “Anthony, perhaps I can help you, if you'll let me, to work through these issues from your past...?” Tony snorts, but it's barely amused,

“If sixty-three therapists couldn't help, what makes you think you can?”

“Well, Anthony, you're a different man now than you were when you were in therapy, and you've taken a huge step in admitting that Mr. Rogers was, in fact, hurting you...” Tony grimaces,

“Rogers- _Stark_.” He corrects, “And I was fine, I _am_ fine, I don't need any of this, I only need Steve.” He makes to stand up, but Xavier's next words stop him,

“It made you feel like he noticed you, when your father hurt you,” Tony freezes, jaw clenching, “He would seek you out, the only time he ever did if not for Press coverage, it was the most attention he paid to you, and you endured because you wanted him to love you.”

“Well he didn't!” Tony snaps, hands clenching into fists at his sides, “He didn't love me! The only kind words I got from him were in a stupid reel of film after he'd been gone ten years!” Charles is silent as Tony gets in his face, “He hated me, because I could never be as _amazing_ as Captain fucking America!” Tony falls silent as he realizes those words have left his mouth, and Charles can see the wheels turning in his head, can see the realization in his eyes,

“You let Steve hurt you because that gave him a flaw, it proved your father wrong.” He says, and Tony reels backwards,

“NO! I _love_ Steve!”

“I didn't say you didn't,” Charles sighs, a sad sound, “I know that you love him, that much is clear, but that tiny flaw made you feel right, proved your father wrong, but right, at the same time. Tony, you do not deserve to be hurt.” Tony huffs, crossing his arms, but the motion just makes him look smaller, insecure, alone.

“...right.” He grunts, but Charles shakes his head,

“It's true, Tony, you don't deserve that. When your father did it, you were only a child, and he was wrong to do those things to you, to hurt you that way, and so was Steve, wait, hear me out!” Charles raises a hand when Tony starts to speak, “I've been to see Steve, and he doesn't mean to hurt you, he and I will be having sessions as well, if...if you'd be willing to agree to have sessions with me, I will do my best to get the two of you back together, and to help your relationship.” He pauses, watches Tony consider it, “It's that, or give up.”

“...I won't give up on Steve.” Tony says, eyes fierce, and there's the Tony Stark that saves the world as Iron Man, that works through his own hurt and pain for others, though he doesn't admit it. Charles smiles.


	13. Interum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint talks. Wow.

The headache Tony has after three sessions with Charles is enough to drive anyone searching for pain pills, giving up, but it only reminds Tony of the hangovers he used to get when he drank all the time. His head is pounding, it hurts pretty bad, but he doesn't take anything for it, just curls up on the cot in his workshop, and stares at the screens that Jarvis is running programs on for him. He knows Peter doesn't approve of him watching Steve and Bruce, but he can't live without Steve, his life is so lonely without him, so pointless. The only thing that keeps him from going completely batshit is Peter. His son, but their interactions have grown strained, and Peter doesn't come into the lab anymore. His eyes follow Steve around Bruce's living room, Banner is nowhere to be seen, but Tony barely notices. Steve paces, he always paces nowadays, and Tony feels too exhausted to even sit up. He gives a soft, deprecating laugh, eyes leaving the screen, sweeping across his thrashed workshop, he wishes Steve would come tell him to clean it.

The sessions don't seem to be doing anything for Tony, Charles helps him understand his childhood, work on the things his father had done, but Tony doesn't want to work on that, he doesn't want to think about all the things that happened, all the times his father took out his anger on him, he doesn't want to think about how it wasn't his fault, because then he'll have to remember all of that happening and have no reason _why_. And what will he do then? What effect will that have on him?

Tony rolls over until he's facing the wall the cot is shoved against, curls his body into itself, hands fisted in the front of his shirt. The light from the reactor shines on them, light blue and bright, ethereal almost. That's what Steve had said, he'd said it looked _“Like magic.”_ Tony had scoffed at him, now he looks down at the glow, at the shadows it casts upon the wall, and he feels useless. Alone.

“ _Hey Tony, look! Clint showed me how to add a picture to a contact!”_ Steve's voice is everywhere, it's in every room, every memory, and Tony, who's mind is being flooded with memories of his father hitting him, his father telling him he's useless, doesn't know if he wants that to go away or not. He'd rather have a ghost of Steve than no Steve at all. That thought makes Tony shudder, 

“Steve's not dead...” He says aloud, but it doesn't help, and he curls up further, trying not to cry, not to think about the pain of his past, not to think about all the happy days he and Steve spent together, marred by only four days, not even whole days, where Steve couldn't handle himself.

 

It's a few hours before Tony moves again, because Clint is there with food, and if his eyes are a little red, Clint doesn't say anything, just hands him the sandwich, and sits beside him on the cot to eat his own. He doesn't say all the things everyone else has taken to saying, no “how you holding ups” or “Can I get you anythings”. Tony appreciates it. He looks at the food in his hands, doesn't make a move to eat it, not until Clint's halfway done with his sandwich.

“...I want to see him.” Tony mumbles around his first bite, “Not just on my screens, I want to actually see him....” Clint sighs,

“I know, Tony.” That's the only change Clint has made, he doesn't call Tony “Stark” anymore. Tony makes a frustrated sound, and Clint continues, “Look, I'll do my best, you know Natasha's still upset...and Steve's worried he'll hurt you,” Hawkeye's tone shows just how much he believes that will happen, so Tony helpfully rolls his eyes, “But I'll try.” And that's all Tony gets out of him.  


	14. Is it better yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets his way.

In the end, Tony gets what he wants. He feels like a little kid in a custody battle, with Natasha and Clint there, sitting innocuously by the windows, but there's Steve, for the first time in three weeks, there's the man he loves, sitting on the couch, looking nervous. Steve doesn't do anything that normal people do, he doesn't wipe his palms on his pants, or shiver, of look around. But he's nervous, and Tony can tell.

Can tell in the slow way he's blinking, in the scrape of his thumb against his forefinger, miniscule, barely there. And Tony can't stop himself, he slips onto the couch, and, as gentle as Steve had been bandaging him after their last major battle, Tony is as he wraps his arms around his husband, and just... _holds him._ Steve tenses in his arms, and Tony has a heart stopping moment of fear that Steve doesn't want him anymore, before the larger man relaxes into his hold, then leans into him. 

“...Tony...I'm so sor-!”

“Shh.” Tony cuts him off, carding his fingers through his Captain's hair, mussing the neat styling, then pulling Steve's head down against his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. He doesn't voice all the things running through his head, _I want you home, I need you home, let's forget this ever happened,_ they stay inside his mind, and he simply holds his husband, rocking gently, as he would for their son when he'd scrape his knee or fall out of a tree. He gives soft shushing noises every few seconds, and somewhere in his mind he thinks that maybe, just maybe, if he'd done this for his father, it would have been better. But he shakes it off, the past is past, and that's something he's quickly trying to solidify. 

It's an hour before anyone speaks, even Natasha can't bring herself to say anything while Steve is sniffling softly into Tony's shoulder. Then Steve opens his mouth,

“Can you ever forgive me, Tony?” He whispers, and Tony shushes him again, kisses his full lips,

“I already have.” He murmurs back, and Natasha grimaces, but Tony just flashes her the finger over his shoulder, and keeps his gaze focused on Steve, “We'll fix this, alright?” He promises, but he doesn't know how he'll do it, all he knows is he has to. Because Steve is sad, and they need this to work, Tony needs Cap home, needs to wake up to his smile, needs his comforting presence when he's overworking himself in the lab. He needs Cap to bandage his wounds, and he needs to do the same for his husband. Without Steve, he realizes, he's not very much in his own eyes.

Without Steve, something is missing, a piece of his heart, and getting Steve back is the only way to fix it.

They talk about the sessions, reluctantly on Tony's part, they talk about Peter's grades, about the little things around the tower that need fixing, about the villains making themselves known in the city, but they don't talk about the loneliness Tony feels, he doesn't mention how hard it is to wake up without Steve, because he knows Steve doesn't need that added to his guilt.

So, when Natasha motions to Steve that it's time to leave, Tony doesn't protest, he just forces a smile,

“I'll see you soon.” Leaves his lips, and Steve nods, kisses him gently,

“I love you.” Is pressed to his mouth, and Tony looks into those heart wrenching blue eyes, smile slipping, and says,

“I love you, too.” And then Steve steps into the elevator, Clint on his heels, and Natasha hovers near the genius, as if worried he'll have another breakdown, but he doesn't, he just runs his fingers through his hair, straightens his shoulders, and turns to the kitchen to find something to eat.

 

Tony starts forcing himself to do all the things Steve usually makes him do, eat, sleep, relax... he knows if he can take care of himself, then people won't worry as much, and that might just lead to more time with Steve. He's terrified that everything will be different if...no,  _when_ , Steve comes back for good, but he pushes that fear down, goes back to working on the newest Stark phone, or the schematics for his new car, and hides his insecurities behind a mask of efficiency. 

 


	15. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets distracted

“Tony...” Charles sounds disappointed, and Tony rubs his temples, grimacing,

“What?” He asks, letting his eyes flicker to Charles's face,

“You can't just...” Charles pauses, “Look, it's good that you're working on taking care of yourself, but you have to mean it, you can't pretend, Tony.” Tony frowns, sitting up in his chair,

“Sometimes if you pretend long enough it becomes reality.” He shoots back, and Charles rolls his eyes, because those are his words being flung back at him.

“Do you really want a fake reality? Or do you want Steve to truly respect you, to truly be impressed?” Charles says, raising a single eyebrow, and touching Tony's shoulder, “You don't need his respect, Tony, you already have it. What you need is the ability to _accept_ his respect for you.” Tony grimaces, 

“I don't know how to do that!”

“Then you'd better learn quickly!” It's their eighth session, and Tony isn't holding up well, Charles knows that, despite him going to bed, laying there in the blankets, pretending, Tony hasn't slept more than ten minutes in about three weeks, that he's overworking himself, that he's ordering large meals, but only eating tidbits. Tony decidedly hates Telepaths.

 

Six weeks after that, Tony is obviously not sleeping. He has thick shadows under his eyes, and he's constantly jittery, the kind of jerky twitching that comes from too much coffee, too many energy drinks, and not enough sleep to offset them. It's almost as though he's given up. But to those who really know him, it's because he's trying harder than ever, constantly working on fixing himself so that Steve can come home. Every session with Charles ends in frustration, and though Steve has been doing well, seems to have found the root of his own problems, and has found a few solutions that he's working on, Tony is doing worse and worse.

He understands that his father is at the root of this, but that terror is still there, that fear of what will happen to his mind when he gives into the realization that he didn't deserve it, _doesn't_ deserve it. Will he hate Steve? Will he go crazy? Tony is horrified of all those possibilities.

 

When the call to assemble comes, he doesn't hesitate. It's been relatively quiet lately, since the last battle Tony had been in, and it's an almost welcome relief. It takes him a few minutes to suit up, and then he's gone, shooting off the launch pad. The monsters are giant robots this time, huge spider-like things, coated in what seems to be adamantium, so Tony doesn't his best to avoid their legs, but it's easier said than done. They focus on him not too long into the battle, batting at him as he would an annoying gnat, though they swat him to the ground, and once he's there it's a mad dash to try and step on him.

But he keeps fighting, shooting into the sky before they can crush him beneath their giant feet. Peter's at school, so at least he's not involved, across the city as he is, but the monsters are making rubbish of just-rebuilt shops, smashing buildings and sidewalk and streets, destroying everything that gets in their way, and as they're chasing Tony, it's hard for the others to catch up. But Tony's fast, and he's dodging all their blows, somersaulting through the air, hitting their vulnerable spots with his repulsors.

Everything is going fine, Tony finds a blocked end of a street, and he tries to corral them there, and the other Avengers are within sight, and he sees Steve, still dressed in his suit, throwing the shield at one of the creatures, and a jolt of longing goes through his chest, and it distracts him for just one second too long.  


	16. You're still scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve notices that Tony's hurt.

 

The battle is grueling, the creatures attacking them look like giant metal spiders, and they keep flinging Iron Man to the ground and trying to stomp on him. It's not until one succeeds that Steve begins to worry.

The Iron Man makes a screeching sound of metal on metal, and Steve turns, eyes wide. “Iron Man?” He says into the comm, and there's no answer, just a terrifying crackle of static, and Steve forgets that he's in the middle of a battle, and takes off running toward his fallen husband. When he gets there, the suit has partially retracted, revealing Tony's face, his arms, the upper half of his chest. It's as if it lost power halfway through, and stopped. And then Steve realizes that it did. Because the reactor is dark.

The scream that leaves his lips isn't human, that much he knows, as he hits the reactor, hoping to spur it back on, but it doesn't even flicker. He's got Tony in his arms before he has another thought, it's mayhem on the streets of Manhattan, and he has to weave between cars, and frightened people, but he doesn't even notice. He's at the hospital before he knows it, barking angry orders at the nurses behind the counter, then begging, then pleading. They take Tony from his arms, and vanish down a hall, and Steve slumps to his knees on the floor, and doesn't move for an hour.

After that much time passes, the team joins him, supports him, and they move to the waiting room, where Peter rushes in, looking terrified, then flings his arms around Steve as if all his wrongs have been forgotten, forgiven.

“...Papa?” He whispers after six more hours have passed, and there's no word, “....Papa...what happened...?” Steve swallows, shivers,

“...the...it...stepped...stomped...on him...his reactor failed.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Peter's eyes are wide, terrified.

“Mr. Rogers-Stark?” A soft voice calls, and Steve jerks to his feet,

“Yes? How is he?!” He rushes forward, and the nurse offers him a small smile,

“He's pretty banged up, but his...PA brought us his spare arc reactor, and he's alive.” She watches Steve's shoulders sag in relief, “He'll need some time off, of course, and someone to care for him, his wrist is sprained, and he has some bruised ribs.” Steve glances at his team, determination in his eyes,

“I'll see to it.” He promises, and she nods,

“You can come see him now, he's not conscious yet.” And she leads him and Peter into the hospital room, where Tony is laid out on the bed, breathing slowly, deeply asleep. Steve slumps into the chair beside his bed, his upper body is draped over Tony's chest, face pressed against the hard edge of the reactor, the glow coming through his eyelids as he begins to sob, tears dripping down his cheeks. It's been a long time since he's cried like this, really _cried_ , but the terror he felt when Tony went down was comparable only to their first real battle, where Tony had fallen from the portal and been caught by the Hulk, the reactor had almost gone out then, as well. Peter kneels on the floor beside him, hand sliding up to grip Tony's limp fingers, and Steve wishes that all of this hadn't happened, that he hadn't lost control because of his guilt, hadn't seen red and then blocked it out later. Because he doesn't know how he would stand himself if Tony died and he hadn't spent the night before with him, hadn't been there that morning, kissing him, telling him he loves him...Steve's body shakes with the force of his sobs, but Peter doesn't say anything, he's silent, pressed against Steve's side, and together, when Steve's tears dry, they wait for Tony to open his eyes.

 

“ _Useless.” Tony looks up, hearing his father's voice, fear courses through him, but he shakes it off. He's a grown man now, has been running the company, saving people, what can this man do to him now? Still, the worry is a persistent ache in his chest as Howard Stark looms over him. “You are completely useless! I gave you everything you needed, Tony, and what'd you do with it? You wasted it! You could have turned the world's energy pure by now!” Tony flinches, he can't stop himself, and then Howard is gripping his chin, glaring down at him, and Tony swallows, eyes wide._

“ _I'm trying, dad, really I am, but it's not as easy as you're making it sound!” He can't believe he's responding, he thought he'd learned long ago not to talk back, but he can't keep silent. “Not everyone wants Clean energy!” He's standing now, staring his father down, and he knows he's shorter, he knows he'll never hit that last two inches that Howard has over him, but he feels tall as he glares into Howard's eyes in return,_

“ _If it were me it would be done already!” Howard snaps, but Tony just bares his teeth,_

“ _If it were you, dad, SI would still be making weapons, and Obi would still be half in charge.” And it's Tony who grabs Howard's chin, forces him to look at his son, “And I would be long dead.” He pushes Howard away, and the man lunges at him, fists raised, a motion that would have scared Tony half to death as a child, but it doesn't now, Howard looks drunk, weak, and Tony just grabs his shoulders, “Not this time, dad, you can't treat me like this anymore.”_

 

Tony blinks against the bright hospital lights, his chest feels heavy, and he's having a hard time getting a deep breath, so he lifts his head, and there's his son and his husband, their heads on his chest, looking extremely worried.

“...so...” He begins, watching Steve and Peter jerk to attention, “What'd I miss?” The joke is distasteful, he knows, but they both crack nervous grins, and Tony realizes that this is all he's ever wanted, this family, where he knows what he's doing, at least partially, and the people sharing his home love him. He can still see the sorrow in Cap's eyes, knows that won't change until he convinces Steve that he's alright, but he knows, suddenly, as Steve must have when this all started, that it will end well, that they'll be together again, vows made and upheld. Steve makes to say something, probably important, but Tony grabs his face, and pulls him down, mashing their mouths together on accident.  


	17. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go on. And stuff.

“Come home.” He says softly, eyes boring into the vivid blue of Steve's, “I won't take any excuses, we'll sleep in different rooms if we have to, Peter can regulate when we're in the living room or something, but I want you home.” Peter clears his throat nervously, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them, and Steve looks to his son,

“...only if Peter thinks it's a good idea.” He finally answers, Peter bites his lip,

“I need to speak to the professor first.” Tony gives a sharp nod,

“Of course.” He replies, “Now, when do I get to leave?” He's already fiddling with the IV, having removed the nose tube of oxygen while they were talking. Steve's hand stops his, gently twining their fingers together,

“I don't know, Tony, you had it rough...” He chews his lip, and Tony raises an eyebrow,

“I feel fine,” He says, making Steve grimace, “Look, all my limbs work, bones aren't broken, I'm alright, I just want to go home.” Peter sighs,

“I'm going to call Xavier,” He finally mutters before leaving the room, shooting a warning look at Steve before he does, that Tony doesn't miss.

“When did he grow up?” Tony whispers, suddenly hit with the fact that his kid... _their_ kid, is almost an adult now. Steve looks at him, blue eyes wide,

“I don't know.” He answers.

 

When they get home, Steve fidgets. Tony tries to take his hand, but the man simply takes a step back, shaking his head, and Tony feels his shoulders slump.

“Um...movie...?” He asks hopefully, but Steve shakes his head again, and Peter makes an apologetic sound,

“I have homework, Dad, you know that.” Tony nods,

“Yeah...yeah, I knew that...sorry.” He fiddles with the bandage from the IV, and shuffles toward his room to change into more comfortable clothes. For a second his heart leaps, because Steve is following him, and then his husband passes him by, and opens the door to the guest bedroom, setting his bag inside. Tony's knees shake.

 

He'd thought having Steve home would be better, but instead it's worse. Tony can see him, but not touch him, and it's infuriating. It's not Peter stopping them, it's _Steve_ , Steve who doesn't return his kisses, barely notices his hellos, won't hug him, won't even sit with him unless someone else is in the room. And Tony thinks he's going insane. It's too much, to not be able to touch, to not be able to hold, and he's not allowed on missions for a month, which is a whole different type of exquisite torture, because he has nothing to take his mind off of Steve, Steve who won't kiss him, Steve who doesn't sleep beside him, Steve who doesn't trust himself. It's horrendous.

 

Within two months, Charles tells Tony he doesn't need to come back anymore, that he's worked through as much of himself as he possibly can, and Tony is glad, because he feels like a wrung sponge, like he can't stand another introspective thought, because he would rip apart. Steve, however, goes every day, unless they have a mission, and comes back with the same desolate look on his face, the same hesitance. It's driving Tony crazy.

 

 Four months later, Steve still has that worried line between his eyebrows, and Tony feels like his head is going to explode. He's even attempted cooking, and, though it's better than his omelet attempt for Pepper, it's not good, and it's Peter, not Steve, that gives him an unamused look as they fan smoke out of the kitchen. Tony grimaces.

He spends the next two months trying to cuddle Steve on the couch, but Steve just moves every time Tony sits down, and that's almost more than Tony can deal with after everything else. He tries to talk to several different people about it, but all of them take Steve's side, which makes no sense to Tony, and he finds himself sitting in Charles Xavier's office again, ignoring the kids ducking in and out, asking questions, because he doesn't _care_ what they have to say, and Charles is looking at him with that serene expression, and Tony is _mad._

“Mr. Stark,” Charles interrupts Tony's internal rant, “Steve is doing his best, he is afraid.” Tony opens his mouth to protest, and Charles holds up a hand, “He's afraid he'll keep hurting you, without thinking.” Tony slumps deeper in the chair he's confined himself to, if he stands up he'll start pacing, so, instead, his foot taps. Knee bouncing, hands twitching, twisting his fingers together, his eyes flicker to the windows. Charles raises an eyebrow at his thought processes, “Anthony,” He holds up a hand, as if he can calm the man before him with a touch, but Tony just jerks to his feet, arms crossed, muscles tense.

“Hurt me, right.” He grumbles, teeth on edge, and he leans against the wall by the window, staring out, shoulders hunching. “He never did it on purpose, Prof.” He glances at Charles, tapping his fingers against his arms, “You know he didn't, you saw inside his head.” Charles's face fell, “You...you did see, inside his head...you know he...” Tony trails off, speechless, and that's no mean feat.

“Anthony, calm down.” He says as Tony swallows nervously, “He loves you, Tony, you know he does.” But Tony is mouthing wordlessly now, his eyes wide, “He does, he loves you. But he didn't do this without intent, he knew what he was doing.” Tony shakes his head,

“No, I don't believe it, I don't believe that he'd...!” He chokes off, and his arms are still crossed, but it looks more protective now. Like he's holding himself together, like he'll fall apart if he lets go.

“Anthony, sit down.” Charles can see the cogs spinning in Tony's head, and it's a terrifying thing.

 

 


	18. Forced

 Tony's mind is reeling. He's pacing in his lab, wearing lines into the floor, which isn't easy, since it's mostly concrete. All his projects are laying half done, abandoned, because Steve knew what he was doing...Steve _knew_ , and Tony doesn't know how to feel about that. He feels like he's breaking into a million pieces, like that expensive vase he bought for Pepper, that he knocked over a few days later, and watched shatter into the tiniest, most delicate shards he'd ever seen. She'd been devastated. Tony doesn't know how to feel, now. Dum-E bumps into his path, wheels squeaking softly, and Tony pauses, staring down at the idiotic bot, and then there are tears in his eyes, and he hates it. He kicks Dum-E without thinking about it, sending the bot spinning across the lab, and then guilt fills Tony's chest, and he slumps against the nearest work surface, and his head lands on his knees, and he doesn't know what to do.

Steve meant it. Did Steve mean it? Tony grips his hair for a moment, then, hating himself, he shuffles across the lab, and unlocks the liquor cabinet. Five minutes and half a bottle of vodka later, and he's leaned against the wall, head down, bottle hanging from his fingertips. It's been years since he's gotten shitfaced like this, with abandon, but he feels like drinking the contents of the whole cabinet right this moment. So he does his best. He drinks until nothing is clear, and he can't remember why he's drinking, and all his hard work to be worthwhile slips away like water in cupped hands, and all his insecurities buzz around his head like flies.

 

It's Clint who finds him, who looks at him with sad eyes, taking in his form, slumped on the floor against the cot. And Tony squints, because he's so drunk that he can't focus enough to see Clint's expression. Clint slings Tony over his shoulder, and Tony clamps his mouth shut, groaning as his stomach churns,

“You'd better not puke on me, Stark!” The archer snaps, and Tony's mind tells him there's something wrong with the name, but at the moment he can't figure out what it is, so he doesn't say anything, just focuses on not vomiting. Getting dumped on his bed should be familiar, but as he falls face first into cotton sheets, none of it is familiar. And then he sits up, and there's a blur of yellow and blue, and strong hands bracing his shoulders as he sways.

“He's....?” Steve's voice asks, and Tony immediately tries to squirm into those arms, against that chest, to be held, but Steve's arms lock, and Tony can't get closer.

“He's drunk. Out of his fucking mind. Look, I get it that some shit went down, I know you don't feel like you can handle it, but you need to! You _need_ to handle Tony, or he'll fall apart and go back to how he was. The Prof says he's worked through all that he can work through, so get _your_ shit together, Rogers!” Clint's voice is sharp, and confusing to Tony, who continues his mad scramble to try and get to Steve's chest, so he can cuddle there. It's only when he's drunk that he can be this affectionate without getting embarrassed and turning gruff and a little bit demanding.

“Clint-!” Steve starts to protest, but Tony somehow escapes his grip, and he's got his lips over Steve's before Steve can finish his sentence.

 

Steve's brow furrows. First Clint dropped the obviously drunk brunette on his bed, in the guestroom, then he'd started yelling, and now, with a lap full of Tony Rogers-Stark, desperately shoving his alcohol-flavored tongue in his mouth, he couldn't really yell back. His husband is pressing against him, and he can barely breathe due to the pressure of Tony's slick mouth against his, but Clint is gone, and the door is firmly closed. Steve's mind is shouting at him that he can't do this, shouldn't do this, but his hands are sliding up Tony's back, under his shirt, and Tony's hands are tearing at his clothes, and he can't convince himself to give a damn for once.

Tony's hands leave trails of fire over Steve's skin, and he can't focus on anything but Tony, Tony's calloused fingers, rough against his flesh, fumbling to get him undressed. Steve grimaces at the taste of alcohol, but he can't bring himself to stop, he presses Tony down into the mattress, his body between his husband's legs, and he kisses him with an almost equal desperation. It's been far too long, and the craving he has for Tony, having been hidden, eclipsed by his fear that he would continue to hurt Tony, will no longer be denied. It takes a few minutes, but then Tony is naked beneath him, panting, and arching, and half-sobbing with need, and Steve smashes their mouths together again. He's starting to sweat, which is no mean feat, but he doesn't notice as Tony bucks up, and their hips collide, and he mouths Tony's throat, leaving lovebites and hickeys, and he can almost forget that he's caused his lover so much pain.

Sex is out of the question, because Steve doesn't have any lubricant, and he knows if he goes to get some he'll stop, and he's in too deep to stop now, so he coaxes Tony into orgasm with his hand, and Tony eagerly, if slightly drunkenly, repays the favor. They slump amongst the twisted blankets, and Steve laughs tiredly as his husband wraps around him like a squid, clinging to his body.

“...Tony...” He sighs a little bit wistfully, and he smooths a hand down Tony's back, trying to tug the blankets into some semblance of order.

 


	19. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, it's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry, I've been a bit busy and stressed, got a girlfriend, Woo, go me! And all that loveliness. Anyway, here's a chapter, hope it holds up to the rest, and I plan to put more up soon. Enjoy~

 Tony groans as he stirs from sleep, his first clue that he's not in his own bed is the light. Jarvis would never let the light in like this before two in the afternoon. He's spread out across a bed, with cotton sheets, and there's something big and warm under half of his body. It moves, and he racks his brain for memories of the night before, trying to remember what happened, and, most importantly, _who_ he's with. He can't remember a damn thing, so he steels himself, and inches one eye open, and relief courses through him, because it's Steve under him, staring at him, those bright blue eyes locked on his face. Tony blinks, and the fuzzy visage clears, and then he's burying his face in Steve's chest, taking deep calming breaths, because, _damn_ he missed Steve. He feels Steve's chest rise as his husband takes a breath to speak, and Tony's fingers cover his mouth,

“No, don't.” He bites out before Steve can speak, “...just...don't.” Tony breathes deep, eyes closed, his head hurts, but he won't let that distract him from the feeling of Steve's body against his, which he knows he won't have for long. And so, Tony pretends. He pretends that no one ever found out about Steve hurting him, even him, he pretends that Steve wants to hold him, isn't afraid. He pretends his father didn't make him feel worthless for anything but pain, and that's the hardest thing to pretend. Steve's arms wrap gently around him, and he fights the urge to cry, because he hates crying, and that would be almost as embarrassing as the night that everyone found out about these things he's pretending don't exist.

“Tony...” Steve's voice is soft, and Tony tries to cling tighter to him, but Steve slowly lifts him off, and he finds himself avoiding Steve's eyes,

“I know.” He says simply, voice strong, and he feels Steve flinch,

“Then why haven't you run, Tony? Why are you still sitting here?” Tony looks up at that, eyes dark,

“Because...” He trails off, turning the words over in his mind, trying to find the proper sequence to put them in, “Look, I love you.” He barely avoids stuttering on that, and that nearly makes him stop, because that's a whole new thing to look at within himself, but he presses on, “You're my husband, I made vows to you, vows to be honest, to...to take care of you, to cherish you, and...I broke them the same as you broke yours.” Steve makes to interrupt, but Tony holds up a hand, then runs the same hand over his chin, his goatee is growing out a bit too much, and he feels it scratch against his fingertips. “It's true, so don't deny it. I couldn't be honest with you if I weren't honest with myself, and I'm not saying I can...discuss these things with you, but know that I'm doing my best to work through them, because I love you. So I need you to work through your problems too, Steve. I need you to try, because...I need you.” Tony grimaces at his words, and, once again Steve opens his mouth, but Tony is talking again before he can even draw breath, “Wait, that's not...that's not right, that's not what I mean, shit. 'Need' isn't the right word, I know that, but...” Another pause, a scrape of fingers through messy hair, and Tony raises his eyes to Steve's, “I want you.” The words are quiet, unsure, “I want you, forever, and you can't give yourself back to me, and I can't take you, until you've worked through your problems.” Steve frowns at him, and Tony resigns himself to losing the love of his life,

“Okay.” The single word from Steve's mouth makes Tony blink,

“What?”

“I said...okay.” Steve lifts Tony's chin with his fingertips, and kisses him softly, “I'm doing my best, and...the Professor thinks it may have something to do with...with Bucky,” Tony winces slightly, he knows what that did to Steve, “So...we're looking into that, and...I think he may be right. So, I'm doing what I can, and, with Peter's blessing, I would like to move back into my bedroom. God knows you sleep way too little without me, despite your blackout windows.” A smile flits at the corners of Steve's lips, and Tony's face breaks into a grin,

“Well, I sleep the same amount, I'm sure. You snore.” The genius pretends to examine his fingernails, and Steve wrinkles his nose,

“I do not!” The super soldier protests, Tony laughs.

 


End file.
